


Gorget

by akire_yta



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: First Person, M/M, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:32:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A first contact situation goes slightly weird</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gorget

The sun has set below the horizon, but I still have work to do. The unexpected arrival of our alien visitors has increased my workload, but it is a burden I happily carry. After all, it is my prestige that is increasing with every positive report, every formal event, ever courtesy extended to our visitors.

I smile to myself as I slide open the door to my allocated workspace. They are such intriguing people, so different from us. Even the tallest of them is a full hand-span smaller than our shortest adult. And they are so pale, their skins betraying every flush and colouration. They wear their emotional state out there, for all the world to see, rather  
than keeping it in, where only the most intimate of consorts may see.

I settle on the floor behind the work pallet, and begin to make the appropriate arrangements for the following day. Despite their small stature, they are so curious of the world around them. I would have thought there was not enough space inside such fragile little bodies for such wonder, such capacity for investigation.

I hear the sound of someone scraping their feet outside the sliding door, politely requesting entrance. But as the door slides back, I am on my feet. The Patre walks into my office, his eyes scanning every surface before settling on me. I fold my hands over my chest, lacing my fingers into an intricate web of respect as I wait for my superior to speak.

"How goes our guests' visit?"

"Well, Patre," I reply. "They have expressed nothing but pleasure at our hospitality."

"But is our hospitality complete, youngling?" I blink at being  
addressed below my station. But I hold my silence. Patre continues. "I have been observing the party as they have toured our city. There are two amongst them who behave as if they are likmat, but they do not wear the signs of their fortune and honour."

He gestures minutely with one gnarled hand, requesting my observations. "I know the pair of which you speak, Patre. But..." I pause, unsure of how to politely phrase this. "They are so different to us, Patre. I am not certain their culture observes the likmat..."

The minute gesture suddenly becomes extravagant. "Nonsense! All cultures respect the sanctity of the likmat, even if they do not call it by that name. In all our travels, it has been one of the few constants we have uncovered."

I am reminded, once again, of all the honours and glories the Patre had accumulated whilst in my position. I lower my jaw in submission, but still I carry my misgivings. "I will enquire, Patre."

~#~

"The gardens are amazing, Fetre. Thank you for showing them to us."

I smile at the one they address as Captain, and gesture for him to follow me under the shade of an arboretum. Refreshments suitable for their metabolism have been laid out according to my exacting specifications. As the Captain accepts a glass, I scan the grassy expanse in front of us. The pair are there, talking with the female they all called Hoshi, and my assistant.

Confident that we would have a few moments to speak, I turn to the Captain. "If I may be so bold, Captain, I have a question I feel you may be able to answer for me."

He turns, bobs his head in that unusual way I have learnt means acceptance or permission amongst their kind. "Sho- I mean, please, ask."

I brace myself for the answer. "Amongst your people, do you have a...a ritual? To recognize the bond between two people."

The Captain nods, but I'm not sure he fully understands. "Umm, yes, we have several, depending on the type of bond, who it is between, things like that."

My claws are clicking together slightly, a nervous habit I thought I had grown out of. "We have a bond called likmat, Captain." He frowns as he fiddles with the device that helps them understand our language. I am well-versed in the limitations of this toy after spending several days in our guests' company. I continue speaking, trying to explain.  
"To find someone to bond with in likmat is considered the highest honour and blessing in our culture. The bond is between two individuals who find themselves drawn together. It is a bond for life."

The Captain is looking at the little screen. "Two into one. That is how the translator is defining it." He looks up at me. "I...yes, I suppose what you're describing is a marriage. A perfect marriage," he says with this strange little wiggle of his facial muscles. "But a marriage."

I bite my tongue slightly. The Patre was right. "How do you represent to others this bond?"

He makes a noise. I think my questions amuse him. "A ceremony, to begin with. Usually people wear some kind of wedding band to show they're married."

I want to ask him more questions, but our transports are already coming in for a landing, ready to whisk us away to our next excursion. I look at the pair as we board the transport, but I can't identify anything different about them that might be this wedding band. I will ask Patre's advice tonight. As he had already proven, he was far more  
experienced at this than I.

~#~

I stand in the doorway and run the edge of my third claw up and down the textured edge of the box. Our guests are standing in the anteroom, waiting for the order of precedence to be announced so they may make a proper entrance.

Patre was adamant that this be done before they enter. It was the correct thing to do. A bond, especially a likmat bond, must be shown in a way that all are without doubt. I feel a slight jab of pain deep in my soul, but I ignore it. Just because I was unlikely to be blest with the joys of likmat did not mean that I should begrudge others the happiness.

The Captain sees me standing, rudely, in the doorway. "Fetre! Are they almost ready for us?"

I brace myself and walk fully into the room. "Almost, Captain. But before you all can enter, we must ensure that all know who walks into their presence."

I was become more adept at interpreting the look of confusion that crossed the Captain's face. "What do you mean?"

I turn and walk towards the pair. They exchange a glance as I drop to my haunches and present the box to them. "You must wear the signs of likmat."

"What?"

I am aware of the Captain at my side. "Fetre, was this why you were asking me about...about marriage!"

The exclamation from the blessed pair was a lot louder this time. "Already our elders who have seen you as you have toured the city have enquired as to why the pair do not wear the sign of likmat."

The paler one addressed his Captain. "This is one of those etiquette things, ain't it Cap'n? Cultural misunderstandin'?"

The Captain groans, and I begin to get the feeling that I have made a horrible, horrible error.

The other one ignored his other and the Captain. "What is required of displaying the likmat?"

I take refuge in the ritual laws of my people. "Those who are bonded in likmat, as you two are, must wear these." The feeling of error is growing stronger. "If only for the duration of the evening festivities."

The darker one looks more closely at the box as the other addresses me directly. "Why did yer elders think we were bonded in this likmat thing?"

Behind me I can hear the small female make a tittering noise and mutter the word 'married.' I ignore her and focus the question. "Your behaviour towards each other, of course. You act as if it had been twenty cycles since your bonding ceremony."

The female's tittering is getting louder. "Old married couple!" The likmat pair glare at her a moment before turning their attentions to the box I still held outstretched.

"Commander, it's our last night here. We'll be gone tomorrow. It will take longer than that just to explain that it's all been a  
misunderstanding."

His bonded partner was obviously not happy. "And a year to explain to the crew that you and I didn't run off and get hitched." He looked at the Captain. "Though I know you're itchin' to use that little privilege, huh?"

"It's your call. I can't order you and Malcolm to pretend to be married." He smiles broadly. "Well, I could, but..."

The one called Malcolm just reaches over and roughly takes the box from my hands. "Just put the damn thing on and..."

There is a collective gasp around the room. I look up with interest as the Commander lifts the first likmat band out of the box. "Do you require assistance?"

He is still standing there, staring at the band. I understand his awe. It is beautiful, a fine example of our most experienced artisans. I don't know how Patre managed to find such an excellent pair at such short notice.

Malcolm has also removed his band, and I take the box away so they may better appreciate the bands.

The paler one speaks first. "It's a goddamn dog collar!"

"So it would appear."

Behind me, it sounds as if the young female has lost control of her vocal cords.

"Hoshi!"

"Sor..sorry, sir," she hiccups, then pauses. "But it will bring out your eyes."

His jaw drops open, and I wonder for a moment why he thought it necessary to submit to her. There was obviously an entire level of nuance to this language that was escaping me entirely.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?"

He was buckling the band around his throat with nimble fingers. Again, I marvel at the Patre's foresight. The band must have been modified to accommodate their smaller size.

"Am I wearing it correctly?"

I nod, overcome. The band sits proudly against his soft, pale skin, a clear sign to all that he was blest to be bonded. We both turn as one to his partner.

"Come on, sir," he tells the other man as his hands dive for the others' band. "Put it on and we can go to dinner."

He took a step back. "Malcolm, it's a dog collar!"

Malcolm's hands finally caught the others' band. "So you've noticed." He undid the buckle and ran the length of the strap through his hands. "It feels like leather, but softer. Very well made." I preen slightly at the implied compliment. Perhaps this wasn't such a mistake after all? "Much nicer than my own one, and I never had any problems wearing that, so it shouldn't bother you in the slightest."

The room around me stills, and I freeze also, trying to pick up a cue as to what just happened.

"You have your own dog collar?"

Malcolm's hands were around his shoulders in a flash, threading and re-buckling the strap. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm British, we invented punk." He straightened the collar, and despite the physical differences between his species and my own, the movements were unmistakably those of a likmat. "Too tight? Good, let's go to dinner."

Looping his arm around his partner, the pair march proudly through the far doors and into the banquet room. I watch them go, then turn to bow the Captain and his entourage through.

Patre was right. All cultures, no matter how different, recognized the likmat.

Though I would have to research what a 'dog collar' was.

~##~

I feel a puff of breath against my ear. "Stop fiddling with it," Malcolm whispers at me.

I turn to glare at him. "Easy for you to say." His collar sits like  
he's forgotten he's wearing it. He's looking as casual as I've ever seen him off-ship but on-duty one elbow resting on the table, propping up his chin. The locals have put us at our own table, just below and to one side of the main table where the guests of honour sit. That's probably what's making Malcolm so damned happy. We can see everyone from here, and the solid brick wall at our backs means he doesn't have to keep looking over his shoulder every five seconds.

I'm glad someone's having a good time. It's like every eye in the place is on us, and the collar feels like its choking the life out of me. "How the hell are you meant to eat wearing these things," I explode a few seconds later.

Malcolm tilts his head to look at me. "You're wearing it too high. Stop pushing it up, it will only constrict your adam's apple." He tapped his own collar, visible through the open collar of his black uniform undershirt, then stroked the exposed flesh beneath it. "Try to loosen it up until it sits on your clavicle."

Discreetly, I follow his advice, and damned if I do get instant relief. "Geez, Malcolm. I didn't know you were such a bondage expert." I meant my tone to be light, joking, but the second the words are out of my mouth, I'm regretting 'em.

The look he shoots me is pure evil. I normally only see that smirk right before stuff starts exploding. "Only if I have my toys with me, Commander."

I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. "Toys?" I was trying for cool and disinterested, but I think it might have come out a little...well...squeaky. The little bastard just gives me a sideways look and a little grin, like he's so much more worldly and stylish because he owns his own dog collar.

What does he mean by toys, anyway?

One of those lizard people has approached our private little table, his hands crossed over his chest in a way I now know is a mark of respect. He presents first Malcolm, then me, with a basket of what I think is fruit, then slides slowly away.

I pull something that looks vaguely like a banana off the top of the arrangement. "Why do you think we deserved this little honour, anyway?" I ask him as I tap the collar with my free hand. It seems like a safe enough topic change without being too obvious as a topic change.

Malcolm shrugged. "I have no idea. Fetre said it was our behaviour." He frowned slightly. "I'm not sure I care for the implications that we have been watched all this time."

I shrug off his paranoia. "Probably just curious about the new guys." This banana thing wasn't too bad at all. It was actually kinda sticky under the skin, very sweet. "Hey, you gotta try one of these things."

Malcolm glanced over at me, and I swear to god he was blushing as he turned away quickly. "I'll...I'll take your word for it, sir."

I watch his resolutely turned back with renewed interest as I nibble some more on my sweet, sticky treat. "What's with this sir stuff, Malcolm? Since, at least for tonight, we're the designated old married couple, the least you can do is call me Trip."

"Of course, sir." His gaze does not leave the table where Hoshi is laughing at some story the old lizard with a ring through his nostril is telling her. Geez, Hoshi's picking up pierced reptiles and Malcolm's admitting to bondage games and kinky toys. I'm never going to be able to look either of them in the eye again. As if feeling my eyes on her,  
Hoshi turns towards us. Her eyes widen as I finish dessert and give her a little wave. She relaxes, laughs a little and says something to her dining companion.

I can't help but feel I'm the topic of conversation over there. If I  
keep this up, I'll be on par with Malcolm in terms of paranoia.

I wipe my hand and mouth on the napkin as a bell rings to announce the start of the formal recession. By now I'm getting used to this likmat thing, and I'm ready when Fetre's assistant appears to discreetly usher us to our place near the head of the line.

We are lead to an exit opposite the anteroom we came in via. These doors spill out into a beautiful ceremonial garden, and it only takes a moment of watching the other guests for me to realize that we'd come to the more relaxed 'meet, greet and gossip' portion of the evenings festivities. Behind me, I can already hear Hoshi laughing at some lizard equivalent of a dirty joke, so I just let my feet carry me out alongside Malcolm.

His path carries us out neatly to the edge of the thickening throng of diners that are clumping together into small groups around the open lawn. His night-vision must be a hell of a lot better than mine, because he finds us something like a park bench for us to sit down on and people-watch.

"Is the band still giving you trouble?"

Guiltily, I drop my hand back onto my lap. "Just a little. Not used to having anything like this around my damned neck."

I can barely make out his features in the dim light. Just a flash of white to clue me into the fact he was flashing me one of his rare big smiles. "You're not doing too bad for a beginner. May I?"

I don't understand what he's asking permission for until I feel his fingers around my neck. His touch is gentle but sure, and I hold still, silently signaling my acquiescence to his superior knowledge. Relief follows almost instantly as the collar finally settles into its proper position. A thousand cocky replies flood my mind, but I settle for a simple "thanks." The exposed skin on either side of the now-settled collar cools quickly after the warmth of his hands. I'm not sure which is the stranger sensation.

We sit in silence for a little while after that, just watching the  
crowds. I spot the Cap'n over with Fetre I still haven't decided if that's his name or just a title and Hoshi was holding court by the drinks table. However, no one approached us as we sat together and watched.

We spoke at the same time. "Malcolm."

"Trip."

I chuckled a little at the synchronicity.

Then I kissed him.

~##~

My lips were tingling. I'd heard the sensation described in books, usually by the bosom-heaving heroine, but I never thought it more than a metaphor.

I was wrong.

Trip's timing was impeccable as always. No sooner had he kissed me, then one of Fetre's assistants was at our side, informing us that now the banquet was officially over, the Captain wanted us back at the shuttle.

It was the first time in my career I'd wanted my commanding officer to go to hell. However, Trip seemed delighted at the interruption, and had nearly leapt off the bench like a sprinter in his rush to get away. I know I'm probably a little rusty, but surely my technique wasn't that bad.

Of course, he had nowhere to run to. He was sitting at the helm controls, already running through the pre-flight, as I helped Hoshi into the shuttlepod. He didn't even look at me as he flew the pod smoothly up through the atmosphere and back to the Enterprise.

I spent the journey running scenarios in my head. In nearly every one, the best case was Trip and I going back to work together as if nothing had changed between us. But something had. He had kissed me, and he had kissed me like he meant it. It wasn't an idle kiss, intended to satisfy his curiousity before he went back to his women in every port. There was something very much like desire fuelling that kiss. But now Trip was running scared of me, of him, or of something else, I had no idea.

The slightest bump announced that we had arrived back at Enterprise. Following Captain Archer up the steps to the gantry, I made my decision. Trip might feel like running, but that didn't mean I had to let him.

I smiled. I had already gotten him into the collar, after all. Why shouldn't I apply the leash?

Post-mission formalities flew by in a kind of mindless blur. Hoshi looked dead on her feet, and the Captain couldn't seem to stop yawning, so it was easy enough to go along with plans for a morning briefing.

In my head, I was planning something of an entirely different nature. With the rest of the away team shuffling off tiredly, it was a simple matter to fall into step next to Trip. I didn't say a word I didn't need to. Side by side, we walked up the corridor towards both our quarters.

Trip's came into view first, and I sprang into action. Seizing his wrist, I dragged his hand away from the control panel.

"Malcolm, listen, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have " I silenced him with a single finger. I was tempted, sorely tempted, to kiss him right there and then, but it was bad enough that two senior officers were standing in the corridor, joined at the wrist, with matching leather collars around their necks. Besides, kissing him now might have only made him  
run faster.

"Follow. Me." My words were low, pitched to be obeyed without question. Even so, I didn't let go of his wrist as I half-led, half-towed the recalcitrant engineer down several doors to my own quarters. One way or another, we were going to finish what was started with that kiss.

Inside my quarters, I pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. In a way, it was actually kind of amusing, watching him sitting their as if he was waiting for his punishment. "You kissed me." He just nodded. I bit my lip and decided to throw him a lifeline. "Did you like it? Because I certainly did."

That got his attention. "Ya did? Cos to be honest, I thought yer were about to slap me one."

I plant my hands on his shoulders and use his body for balance as I slide down to kneel between his legs. "Only if you ask nicely," I murmur as I move in to claim a kiss of my own.

He breaks for air a long moment later, and nuzzles in down the line of my jaw. "Kinky."

I laugh low in my throat and nip at his earlobe. He has no idea. He always was the sunshine boy, bright and cheerful, to my space-dark night, low and dangerous. I revelled in the contradiction we made as I carefully bared my teeth and scraped along the sensitive flesh that lay exposed above that exquisite collar. He shivered down the entire length  
of his body as he jerked back.

"Malcolm!" His voice was scandalized, and just a little bit aroused.

I smile and lick my lips. He already looks so debauched, his zippers half undone, his hair a mess, his eyelids heavy, and that beautiful collar around his neck. I reach out and trace a gentle finger along the textured edge, drifting on and off his skin as I trace the curve. "You look amazing," I tell him honestly. "I want more than a kiss. But if you want to leave now, I understand. We can still be friends." I need  
to offer him this out, even though silently I'm begging him not to take it.

He responds to the unspoken plea and drags my head back down for another, more intense kiss. When we finally break apart, he speaks with his lips on millimetres from mine. "I'm yours Malcolm, all yours."

I sigh happily and reach out to gently bite his lip. He tastes sweet, slightly sugary. It was that damn fruit thing he was eating at the banquet. I tell him this and he laughs.

"Why'd ya blush over that, anyway?"

I nibble up the jawline. "Because not even in my wildest fantasies did I ever envision how hot you would look, dressed in a collar, giving head to a bloody banana."

He tips his head back and laughs loudly, dragging me along with him. It wasn't that amusing at the time, but now I can't help but see the funny side. "I was wonderin' why Hoshi was staring at me."

I drag his attention back to the present with a slightly harder bite. "We can talk about Hoshi in the morning." I push up off my knees and use my entire body to slide him backwards onto the bed. "Right now I think we have more pressing concerns."

"Jeez, Malcolm, how do you move like that." He's lying beneath me, looking a little stunned.

"Practice." I kiss the tip of his nose. "You okay."

He nods. "Sure am. I'm just a little outta practice, if you know what I mean." I get his message loud and clear. We can take it nice and slow. "And Mal?"

I pause from my in-depth oral investigation of his earlobe. "Hmm?"

"You were kidding about those toys, right?"

I push myself up a little bit, taking my weight on my arms. "Don't worry, Mister Tucker. I won't tie you up." I pause a beat. "Tonight." I shift my weight slightly to free one hand to touch the collar gently. "Are you okay leaving these on?"

He nods. "Sure. We are likmat bonded, after all." He looks up at me with this coy look in his eye. "Unless you'd rather put your own collar on?"

He's testing me. I half-roll off him and reach for a storage box under my bed. A moment's fiddling and I feel my goal. I pull it out and let it dangle from my fingers where he can see it. "I think the studs would get in the way, don't you?"

He's gaping, which worries me a moment until he speaks. "It's pink."

"Fuchsia, actually," I sniff as I toss it back in the box.

He loops his arms around me and pulls me back onto his chest. "It's pink, with little studs. I was kinda expecting shiny black leather and spikes." I just licked my way around his neck along the line of the likmat band. He gasps, and adds, "Perhaps we should get Porthos a matching one?"

I reach down, haul his arms up over his head and pin them there. "Trip? Shut up and let me seduce you, or I will tie you down and gag you."

He freed a hand from my grip, smiled, and hooked me by my collar to drag me in for another kiss.


End file.
